


Mishap

by Donda



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Max and Furiosa are largely oblivious, Modern!Max is socially awkward, Mosh Pits, Punk!verse?, The Wives ship Max/Furiosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donda/pseuds/Donda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max figures he'll just enjoy the music from back here, hoping to be left alone, but even after her friends have disappeared, Furiosa remains nearby. He wonders briefly if that's her given name, or some sort of nickname. Either way, it suits her, he thinks as he checks to see if his nose has stopped bleeding.</p><p>The "I broke your nose in a mosh pit" AU. (As first suggested in a post by tokiosunset on tumblr.) </p><p>Sort of a punk!verse AU? The War Rig crew likes hardcore music. </p><p>And Max has terrible luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mishap

The pit is crowded, as usual. Max doesn't particularly want to be in the middle of it, but somehow he had ended up there. Moshing isn't exactly his thing. He's here for the music, not the interaction. He tries to get out, toward the wall where he can stand back and just enjoy it without being around too many people, but the music is picking up, the people getting rowdy.  
  
In retrospect, he shouldn't have walked into that particular portion of the mosh pit. It was especially wild, but he was on a mission, making a bee-line for the nearest wall, trying to escape without thinking of much else. He braces his arms around himself, pushing back against the people who fling themselves against him, but gets shoved from behind and stumbles. Faster than he can react, a hand comes flying at him, smashing into his nose.  
  
Max goes down hard, nearly taking a couple people with him. He's stunned for a moment, lying on the floor, then props himself up on his elbow, his other hand going to his profusely-bleeding nose. People jostle him immediately, pulling him up from the floor. He's a little dazed, still not sure what's going on. Serves him right for letting himself get into the middle of the pit, he thinks.  
  
"Hey. You okay?" A woman with hair buzzed close to her head and way too many belts around her middle shouts over the music, suddenly right in front of him. She is not the first person he would have picked out as the one who had practically punched him (it was a damn hard hit), but at a second glance, he's not too surprised. The smear of blood on the hand she offers him pretty much confirms it.  
  
"…Ow." He checks his hand, now dripping with blood, then presses it back over his nose, grimacing slightly. "Broken."  
  
He refuses her offered hand and brushes past her, heading toward the wall, leaning forward slightly so as not to get more blood on his leather jacket. Finally out of the mosh pit, he leans back against the wall, tilting his head up, letting the blood run to the back of his throat.  
  
He opens his eyes after a minute to find her standing there. He tilts his head back down, fixing her with a piercing gaze.  
  
"Sorry. Didn't mean to hit you. Wrong place, wrong time."  
  
Max considers her apology, then returns a one-shouldered shrug. It happens. He can't really blame her. It's a mosh pit, after all.  
  
"Buy you a drink to make up for it?"  
  
Max isn't quite sure a drink is worth a broken nose, but he could definitely use one right now, so he nods. He follows her through the crowd, and a couple minutes later finds himself standing at the bar at the back of the venue, a wad of napkins pressed to his nose and a beer in his hand.  
  
"Hey, Furiosa. You done with the pit? I'm tired of holding this." A lanky woman with long platinum hair tipped in pink stands behind them, offering something to the woman who had hit him in the face.  
  
"Yeah. Thanks." She takes it - a prosthetic arm, Max realizes, noticing for the first time as she straps it on that her left arm ends just below the elbow. The metal fingers of the prosthetic flex after she finishes putting it on. Well, at least he can be glad she didn't end up punching him with _that_.  
  
"Who's your guy?" Another woman has appeared beside the tall one, considerably shorter, with messily-spiked short brown hair. She's looking straight at Max, as if sizing him up, and he shrinks back a little at her gaze.  
  
"Oh. I, uh... broke his nose." Furiosa looks suddenly ready for a fight of a different kind, fully prepared for at least one of her friends to give her shit about it.  
  
But the tall one just rolls her eyes, then takes a step toward Max and pats his shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. That's practically how she shows affection."  
  
Max glances back and forth between the two women, and settles for taking a gulp of his beer.  
  
He figures he'll just enjoy the music from back here, hoping to be left alone, but even after her friends have disappeared, Furiosa remains nearby. He wonders briefly if that's her given name, or some sort of nickname. Either way, it suits her, he thinks as he checks to see if his nose has stopped bleeding.  
  
He eventually wipes his face with the clean side of the napkin wad, not particularly caring about the smear of blood left across his upper lip.  
  
He supposes that with her metal arm strapped on, she's not going back into the pit. She may have been moshing madly before, but going in there with a metal arm is just _asking_ to injure people. He resigns himself to having to put up with company for a while. At least she doesn't try to talk to him.  
  
As the band winds down, finishing their last song, Max drains the last of his beer and decides to cut his losses and slip out. He's had his fill of people for the night anyway.  
  


* * *

  
It figures that the next show Max goes to, he sees her there. He's standing back against one of the side walls (definitely not going to risk wandering through the pit this time), waiting for the rest of the people to filter in and the band to start. He spots her, surrounded by five other women, two of which he recognizes. Max can't help but watch her, but he stays back against the wall, trying to remain inconspicuous.  
  
He manages to make it through the entire show without incident this time. The music was good, and he's feeling energized. He waits for most of the crowd to filter out before he leaves, but regrets that decision the moment he steps outside. She's standing right outside the door, talking to her friends animatedly. She glances his way, almost passes him over, but then looks back with recognition in her eyes. Max feels all the energy drain from his body.  
  
"Hey, it's you." She approaches him, "How's your nose?"  
  
"Fine," he answers shortly.  
  
"Sorry again."  
  
Max shakes his head, giving little more than a grunt.  
  
"I didn't catch your name."  
  
That gives Max pause. Is breaking someone's nose grounds for being on a first-name basis? He's pretty sure it's not, and he'd really rather not risk any sort of attachment here. Not since… He shakes the thought away. Can't do anything about the past.  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
She considers it for a moment. "Well, if you don't tell me, I'm just going to make one up."  
  
Max shrugs. Fine by him.  
  
"Oh, is this the guy?" A woman with blonde hair breaks off from the group behind Furiosa, smirking.  
  
Great. Now he's infamous.  
  
"That's the one!" The tall one with pink in her hair joins beside her.  
  
The first woman reaches out to him, offering a handshake. "Angharad. I've heard all about the, uh… incident."  
  
Max takes her hand hesitantly, but doesn't offer his name.  
  
The tall one calls back over her shoulder, "Hey, we found the guy." And suddenly the group of women are all focused on him, and he shrinks back, a little intimidated. He feels cornered. He wants to run, but his mind is too muddled to come up with an excuse to get out.  
  
"Ah, well, meet the group, I guess." Furiosa goes down the line. "You've met Angharad. That's Dag, Cheedo, Toast, and Capable."  
  
Nicknames, Max decides. They have to be nicknames. He gives them a nod. There's a brief uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Well, we're going to grab some food and drinks. You want to come?" Capable tries for a peace offering, noticing Max looks a little skittish.  
  
"No, I'll, uh…"  
  
"Come on, it's on Furiosa," Dag prods.  
  
Furiosa shoots her a look, but then considers it for a moment. "Ah, sure. Whatever."  
  
"No, you…" Max stutters.  
  
"I broke your nose." Furiosa responds flatly.  
  
"I said it's fine."  
  
"Great! So you'll come," Toast decides with a bit of a wicked grin. And suddenly Max finds himself caught in the middle of six women as they head down the street to a nearby restaurant, trying to mumble out excuses as to why he needs to go, but not particularly succeeding. (He doesn't have any real excuses, for starters, and they all assure him his dog will be fine without him for another hour or two.)  
  
The restaurant isn't busy at this hour (Max eyes a large, empty table that would fit them all comfortably), but Dag and Angharad both want a booth, so they all cram into one of the larger ones. Max finds himself trapped in yet again. (And way too close for comfort. He wanted the edge - better yet the end - but no, they insisted he sit next to Furiosa, who had already slid into the innermost seat. They're definitely up to something, and Max isn't sure he likes it.) Max hunkers down uncomfortably, Furiosa to his right, Cheedo to his left, and the other four women looking at him across the table with conspiratorial gleams in their eyes.  
  
They order a round of drinks, and Max focuses on his perhaps a little too hard, letting the conversation go on without him.  
  
"You okay, Fool?"  
  
Max stares at the table full of nearly-empty drinks. He looks up in surprise when nobody answers, realizing Furiosa is talking to him. He raises his eyebrows at her. The others stifle snickers.  
  
"Fine," he grunts.  
  
Furiosa opens her mouth to say something else, but stops when the waiter comes to take their orders. Max hadn't really looked at the menu. He picks something cheap.  
  
"So. Fool." Capable smirks a little after the waiter leaves. "Do you have a real name?"  
  
Max hesitates, then shakes his head. The others give him strange looks.  
  
"You have weird taste in names," Dag comments. (Max resists saying something about their own names.)  
  
"Well, at least he's got good taste in music," Toast offers, which (thankfully) turns the conversation back to the show they just came from.  
  
Max is glad when their food finally arrives so he can distract himself with his meal. He should have known that wouldn't be enough to make them leave him alone, though.  
  
"Where are you from, Mr. Fool?"  
  
"Here."  
  
"What do you do for a living?"  
  
"Security."  
  
"Like a security guard?"  
  
Max nods, stuffing a fry into his mouth.  
  
"Where?"  
  
He shrugs. "I move around."  
  
Max catches the girl sitting beside him picking curiously at the studs on his jacket. She shrinks back with an apologetic smile when he turns her way, a little bewildered. The others continue without pause.  
  
"Well, what do you do for fun?"  
  
"Drive."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"I like to hike with Dog," he offers after a moment of thought.  
  
"Wow, six words. Well, that's probably the most we're going to get out of him." Angharad looks a little exasperated. Furiosa is stifling laughter. Max fixes her with the same piercing gaze he had given her after she broke his nose.  
  
"Sorry." She tries to put on a straight face. "You really don't talk much, do you?"  
  
"Mm."  
  
Toast snorts. "Case in point."  
  
Cheedo pipes up for the first time since they arrived. "Oh, are you going to the Chrome Psyche show next month?"  
  
"…Yes." And Max realizes he's probably not going to be able to avoid these people as well as he had hoped.  
  
After a few more questions, they finally seem a little put-off by his lack of conversation and let him eat in peace. The social interaction is thankfully minimal after that (at least insofar as it concerns Max), save for the small fight he has with Furiosa about who will be paying his bill. (Max ends up winning. He eventually convinces Furiosa that she doesn't owe him anything.)  
  
As they finally get up to leave, Max feels like he can breathe again. Furosa's friends walk ahead as they step out into the cool night air, but Furiosa hangs back when she sees Max turn the opposite direction to flee wordlessly back to his car.  
  
"Hey. Sorry they dragged you into this. I didn't realize it would be that uncomfortable for you."  
  
Max stops and turns back to her, shrugging faintly. "'S alright." It's not like they actually forced him into it. He felt a little dragged in, but he could have put his foot down. He's not quite sure why he didn't.  
  
"If you say so." Furiosa turns as one of the girls yells after her to catch up. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, Fool." She starts toward her friends.  
  
"Max."  
  
It's barely audible, and Furiosa turns back to him, looking at him quizzically.  
  
"My name is Max."


End file.
